Frigate Commander (40 page)

My soul is sad for the loss of my worthy old Downie; of his two sons who are with me, one is only eleven years of age; the other is a fine lad about 16 and one of my best Midshipmen. Fortunately the old man had saved a handsome sum of his Prize Money, the interest of which with the Widow’s Pension will I hope enable her to live comfortably with the youngest boy and keep him still at school. Alexander Downie was a specimen of the most respectable of the common Scotch Seamen, with the disadvantage of having less education than many of them have, his did not extend much beyond reading his Bible in which he was well grounded. He was sober, temperate, handy as a Norwegian, active in mind and body, tenacious of reputation well earned as his was, most respectful to his officers, but although anxious to secure the esteem of his captain he was the reverse of a time server or an eye servant. I am not sure whether or not this description of Sailor is superior to the best of the English, but I am sure they are invaluable in a ship and may be depended upon in the hour of peril. I like to have a mixture of Scotch, English and Welch, nor do I object to a few young Irish, who give a turn for fun and a degree of mischief which when kept within due bounds has no bad effect, but gives a degree of life and jocularity that chases the Daemon of Ennui. I do not admire the Prussian discipline when applied to British seamen nor indeed to any men. Discipline is essential but a Discipline consistent with the local circumstances with National character with good sense and humanity. Let it always be remembered that we have Seamen ready made and that it is not in a Man of War that the best of them are formed. In this the navy and Army differ materially, you may make a good private soldier in six months but a sailor must have served five or six years in a merchant ship before he can be deemed an Able Seaman, and even then he has much to learn. There is something in the nature of a Seaman’s profession which many men of superior endowments never acquire and which many comparatively dull men frequently excel in. This is what the French call
gros Manoeuvre
and what very few of the French Navy officers of the old regime knew anything at all about. They affected indeed to despise it, which men often wish to do when they find those whom they deem their inferiors more perfect in an art than themselves. The superior skill, however, in practical seamanship is one of the causes of the unrivalled eminence which the British Navy has attained, and I should be very sorry to see any more relaxation in the strictness of our young Midshipmen’s time of probation.

By 8 March, Moore had fallen in with the frigate
Amphion
, and was cruising some twenty leagues from Vera Cruz. There had been no sign of either the
Apollo
or the
Acasta
, and he considered that they must have left the ground by this time. Moore was also becoming distinctly uncomfortable about his sickly guest for, far from showing any signs of recovery, the man was obviously getting worse:

. . . it is a most distressing spectacle to have constantly under my eye and what I will not expose myself to again unless I am closely connected or deeply interested in the person. It is too much for any man to ask another to do.

Despite his frequent complaints about social isolation, Moore was the sort of romantic who actually enjoyed a degree of solitude. He was, therefore, far from happy to have this solace disturbed so upsettingly by a man of whom he knew little and with whom he could do less. In the privacy of his journal, Moore was brutally honest:

He is indeed in so truly pitiable a state that I most earnestly wish him dead, being almost constantly in a delirium and often apparently in a state of great pain.

By contrast, with one exception, the crew of the
Melampus
was all in good health.

Moore had formed a good opinion of Captain Richard Bennet of the
Amphion
, and the two Captains had written out an instrument stating their mutual agreement to share prizes until noon on 1 May.
¹¹³
As part of this admiration, Moore approved of the state of Bennet’s frigate:

The
Amphion
sails very well seems to be in excellent order and is a very good cruiser, she takes her station just where I would wish her to be in the day time and takes care to close at sun set to avoid the risk of separation. I have good hopes of doing something in such a favourable cruising ground and with so able a second.

Nevertheless, the night after Moore wrote this appreciation, the
Amphion
went missing. Moore shone lights and fired a rocket to attract her attention, but at dawn the frigate was nowhere to be seen. This didn’t inhibit the
Melampus
from capturing enemy vessels. On 15 March, Moore captured a Spanish snow, in ballast from Vera Cruz. As she was of little value and he didn’t want to be lumbered with twenty-four prisoners of war, he decided to let her go. On the following day he captured the Spanish brig
Nostia Senora de la Conception
laden with sugar, flour and soap. This time, the prize was worth keeping and he sent her back to Jamaica with a mate and ten men on board. On 25 March, Moore sent boats in to cut out a felucca, which was taken without resistance. She proved to be from Cadiz carrying dry goods and wine, and Moore decided that she might prove to be a valuable prize because, according to the ship’s papers, the cargo had cost more than 35,000 dollars in Cadiz. He put a mate and eight seamen on board and sent her back to Jamaica.

Moore’s ailing guest finally expired towards the end of March. The surgeon was of the opinion that the man had suffered an abscess of the intestines,

. . . and he was so putrid before he breathed his last that we threw him overboard an hour afterwards for fear of infection. He has left a very fine black boy who was his slave, and who performed the duty of a Nurse to him most faithfully, as the Master frequently mentioned to me his wish that the Boy should be free after his death, I shall most certainly do all I can to procure his freedom for him.

Whilst his guest was failing so dreadfully, Moore had become increasingly troubled by an ailment of his own: rheumatism. On consulting the surgeon, he was surprised to be told that it was not at all rare on the West Indies Station, and that men were often invalided home with it.

Of the
Amphion
there was still no sign and Moore began to suspect that she might have taken a valuable prize which she thought best to escort back to Jamaica. Meanwhile, Moore’s leisure reading led him to reflect on the fictional portrayal of the seaman. There is, he observed,

. . . a very common fault with writers of Romance but which I think Fielding, Smollett and my Father are free from. Trunnion, Jack Hatchway and Pipes are all English seamen, but they are described as different men and all their speeches and actions mark this difference. Tom Bowling is another seaman, perhaps the best portrait, he is as true to the character as the others and quite as original. It is a pity that Smollett allowed his humour to run wild, and to outré as he has done, Trunnion. The turning to windward is too ridiculous and perhaps the garrison is too highly coloured – but these are venial sins and his seamen are admirably drawn characters, and he is the only writer who has hit off to the life an English Sailor.

He turned from his critique of literary characters, to that of real contemporaries:

The most interesting character at present in Europe is Bonaparte. I think his situation on the whole more out of the common track than any almost since the time of Julius Caesar, whose elevation is certainly less to be wondered at. He is a character that stands alone. I know not whether certain meannesses attributed to him early in his career are true, or if Sir Sidney Smith has as much reason to think ill of his moral character as he supposes, but I own I am of opinion that, so inconsistent is man, he may have acted as a Rogue notwithstanding the splendid role he has since supported . . . I believe Bonaparte is a far more uncommon character than Dumourier
[was]
yet I am not at all convinced that Fortune followed up by the most ardent ambition and daring courage may not, aided by peculiarly favourable circumstances have naturally led Bonaparte to his present situation. This to be sure may be said of Julius Caesar, Alexander and Cromwell . . .

By chance, on 2 April, Moore received news of the missing
Amphion
when he spoke to a licensed Spanish brig, which reported that it had been boarded by a party from the
Amphion
on the previous day. At that time she had a prize in company, a brig laden with sugar. A week later, the
Melampus
sighted another vessel and had to fire a lot of shot at her before she brought to. The vessel proved to be another licenced schooner bound for Vera Cruz. On 9 April, the lookouts reported an English frigate approaching, and the
Melampus
was at last joined by one of her wayward squadron, the
Acasta
. Her Captain, Edward Fellowes, was rowed across to the
Melampus
, only to find Moore in some discomfort. His rheumatism had gradually become worse over the preceding weeks, preventing him from sleeping and generally making him feel wretched. Fellowes brought with him the latest news from Port Royal and Europe, where Admiral Hyde Parker had been appointed Commander-in-Chief of the North Sea and was to lead a force into the Baltic against the Armed Neutrality. There were also new orders for the commanders of British men-of-war to seize all Russian, Danish and Norwegian ships. Moore observed, ruefully, that by the time these orders had reached him, the English Channel ports would be well stocked with prize Danish and Norwegian vessels.

On 14 April, signals broke out on the
Acasta
’s signal halyard, reporting a strange sail in the WSW and she immediately dashed away in that direction, though Moore’s lookouts could see nothing. Moore followed, slightly perplexed, in case Fellowes should need his support, but the
Acasta
had vanished. Two days later she reappeared with a prize brig in company. The
Melampus
’ Third Lieutenant, Phillip Handfield was put in charge of her and Moore decided to turn back for Port Royal.

On the voyage back, however, the prize disappeared near the Isle of Pines,
¹¹⁴
just south of Cuba. The
Melampus
sailed into Port Royal on 18 May with Moore in considerable discomfort from rheumatism, and an inflammation of the eyes. Later the same day the prize arrived having beaten off an attack by a privateer after an action lasting two and a half hours. The privateer had been carrying three guns, which she fought on one side only, but was full of men;

This action I fear has cost us one good man dangerously wounded in the thigh; another of the
Melampus
’s was slightly wounded. Lieutenant Handfield has done himself great honor by the brave defence he made and when it is considered that he had only 13 men besides himself, a young midshipman and his servant, a mere boy, to fight his six guns, it is evident that a very gallant and firm conduct on his part could have alone enabled him to succeed against so great a disparity of strength. He speaks in the strongest terms of the spirit and determined valour of the seamen, five of whom belonged to the
Acasta
.

The
Melampus
sailed again from Port Royal on 4 June, but her commander was now in poor health. His rheumatism was continual and what he described as
‘a film’
was growing over his right eye. By the time they stopped at Grand Cayman to purchase fresh provisions on their way back to the Gulf of Mexico, he was describing himself as
‘quite an invalid’
. He resolved that if his eye did not improve by the next time he returned to Port Royal, he would ask to be invalided home. But he was not the only person with troubles. On the 16th, they fell in with the 20-gun post ship
Tisiphone
, commanded by Acting Captain John Hayes.
¹¹⁵
Hayes had sent a boat in chase of a strange vessel and both had disappeared. He was now searching for the missing men, whom he thought might have been heading for Loggerhead Quay in the hope of meeting him. Unfortunately, strong currents had prevented him from getting there and he was concerned about their safety.

An even greater problem had befallen the British frigate
Meleager
, which was cruising in the Gulf or Bay of Campeche, just west of the Yucatan Peninsula. The first that Moore learned of this was when he fell in with a 28-gun Spanish frigate and a schooner, which were flying flags of truce. Moore approached to speak to the vessels and a boat from the Spanish frigate brought over an English Lieutenant and Midshipman from the
Meleager
. They explained that the Spanish ships were en route from Vera Cruz to the Triangles Shoal to rescue the remaining officers and crew of the British frigate. The
Meleager
, commanded by Captain The Honourable Thomas Bladen Capel, youngest son of the Earl of Essex, had run aground on the Shoal due to an error in the charts the ship was carrying. The ship bilged and Capel and his officers managed to transfer everyone to a nearby island before setting fire to the ship. The two officers had been sent to Vera Cruz to seek help and the Spanish ships were on their way to rescue them. Capel had already offered, on behalf of his officers and crew, to surrender themselves as prisoners of war. Arriving at the Triangles Shoal on 24 June, they found the island abandoned. Moore guessed that the people had been picked up several days earlier by the
Apollo
.
¹¹⁶
The wreck of the
Meleager
was still visible though:

The wreck of the ship was burnt to the water’s edge and the masts were still burning when our boat went on shore. They had built a large flat boat sufficient to have carried them all down to Vera Cruz which they left off the Key.